"When anything can be put on the market with a couple of clicks of a
mouse, there will be even more stupid movies, dull books, sloppy data,
and bad analyses -- 'infoglut,' in the aptly ugly term of Christopher
Locke, editor of Internet Business Report...."
Thomas A. Stewart
"Boom Time on the New Frontier"
Fortune, 27 September 1993
There's a story that goes with the above and the following. This is just to get you into the ballpark...
One of the rallying cries in business over the past 10 years has been, "We've got to get smarter about knowledge," And Thomas A. Stewart has been one of its most vocal champions. In The Wealth of Knowledge: Intellectual Capital and the Twenty-First Century Organization (Currency/Doubleday Books, 2001), Stewart cuts through the knowledge-management rhetoric to reassert the simple, revolutionary notion behind intellectual capital: True value in this economy is not the stuff that companies own and sell but the information. capabilities, and culture behind that stuff.
from:
FC shortlist by Jill Kirschenbaum
source: Fast Company, 1 December 2001
via:
HighBeam Research

Back in 1991, I was working for a little CAD/CAM software outfit on the drop-city outskirts of Chicago. The company was called CimLinc, the burg, Itasca. I was bored out of my mind. Surely I was meant for greater things. This kind of thinking is what psychoanalysts call "grandiosity," and it can land you in some x-random mental ward with a Real Bad Diagnosis (RBD).
But I didn't know that then. So one day I called this guy named Thomas Stewart, who was on the Board of Editors of Fortune magazine, and was one of that publication's most visible writers on matters of business management and information technology. I had never spoken to him before. He had no idea who I was. Understandably, as I was nobody.
"Nice piece on what Welch has been up to at GE," I said. And it was. It was also the first news to come out of that company on a raft of progressive management ideas Neutron Jack was then fomenting -- and firing anyone's ass who didn't get it in about five seconds.
"But," I continued, "your article on Intellectual Capital is all wet." The article I was referring to was a June 1991 Fortune cover story titled "Brainpower: intellectual capital is becoming corporate America's most valuable asset and can be its sharpest competitive weapon; the challenge is to find what you have - and use it."
Since then, Tom (as I know him today) has become the world's foremost authority on intellectual capital. He wasn't back then, mostly because no one knew what that meant. Nonetheless, he didn't seem to take kindly to my criticism, and before I could explain further, he "thanked me for sharing" and was about to ring off in a huff. I barely managed to sneak in that I'd mail him a couple of none-too-flattering papers I'd written about so-called knowledge engineering. "You do that," Stewart said. And hung up.
Oh great, I thought. I just alienated a major business writer at a major business publication. For life. He'll never take another call from me. What was I thinking? And so on. A large part of the cause for my chagrin was that my job then was PR, the mission of which is to cajole people who write for Fortune, say, to write about the people who pay your salary. I had screwed up bigtime. Oh dear.
Thus, I was totally unprepared for a call I received a few weeks later.
"Chris?"
"Yeah, who wants to know?" I was in a bad mood.
"This is Tom Stewart at Fortune." I gulped. Oh no! Was he going to turn me in for Attitude Unbecoming a Flack? What?
"I read those papers you sent, and you were right about my article."
This was the last thing I expected to hear. What I'd said about the piece was that I thought he was mistakenly conflating human intellectual capital with "artificial intelligence" -- a field I'd worked in for nearly a decade, and for which I'd lost, in that time, all respect.
A few years later, Tom published Intellectual Capital: The New Wealth of Organizations, in which he included me in the acknowledgments, and to my amazement, cited those two papers I'd sent him: "Dueling Axioms for Concurrent Engineering: Automating Autocracy vs Empowering Local Knowledge," and "Concurrent Engineering in Context." This is surely more than you want to or need to know, but it was a big deal for me at the time. And it cemented a friendship that, by that time, was based on years of email and phone conversations. Tom is what David Weinberger would call "wicked smart," plus he's a lot of fun.
A couple years later still, I got this news from Tom himself, before it hit the wire...
The Harvard Business Review named Thomas A. Stewart, editorial director at Business 2.0 magazine, as its new editor Thursday, replacing Suzy Wetlaufer, who quit following disclosures about a personal relationship with former General Electric chief Jack Welch.
Stewart, 54, is also a member of Fortune magazine's board of editors and the author of two books on intellectual capital.... Stewart joined Fortune in 1989 after 18 years in book publishing and wrote cover stories on the Gulf War, executive power, American competitiveness and gay and lesbian executives.
from:
Harvard Business Review names new editor
source: AP Worldstream, 3 October 2002
via:
HighBeam Research
Tempting as it is to go into the whole sordid Suzie Wong... er... Wetlaufer... er... affair, I'll resist. For now. Suffice it to say that Jack be nimble. Musta been.
Yeah well anyway. Stewart's second book was called The Wealth of Knowledge: Intellectual Capital and the Twenty-first Century Organization. In Chapter 2, titled "What Companies Do and Why They Exist," he gives, as one function-and-reason:
To host conversations and house tacit knowledge. Markets are conversations, as stated in the first line of The Cluetrain Manifesto, a maddening must-read document* by Rick Levine, Christopher Locke, Doc Searls and David Weinberger. The Cluetrain Manifesto describes how the World Wide Web -- inherently informal, infinitely interlinked -- changed markets by allowing customers to talk to one another and to talk back to sellers. It continues: "What's happening to markets is also happening among employees. A metaphysical construct called 'The Company' is the only thing standing between the two." When the conversation goes badly, Locke et al. say, "the cause of failure can be traced to obsolete notions of command and control." [p. 31]
The asterisk (*), above, led to a note at the foot of the page: "If you haven't and since you must: www.cluetrain.com."
And later in the book, he writes...
Says Chris Locke, coauthor of The Cluetrain Manifesto: "In olden days you took your product to the market, and marketing was about trying to identify who to spam. But real-time, emergent markets literally don't exist until some voice, like the Magic Flute, pipes them out of the ether. In realtime, the question becomes what it always should have been -- not how do we package what we've made, but what should we make?" Once again, Drucker's question: not "How do I do the job?" but "What is the job?" [p. 97]
Tom asked me to blurb the book before its official release, and I was happy to do so.
In the course of writing this, I checked to see if my quote made that edition too, but was sad to see it was missing from the back cover. A few more clicks and I cheered up. Now it's at the top of the
front cover!
All this has something to do with what I'm currently doing here on Chief Blogging Officer (!!!) and why I'm doing it on behalf of Highbeam Research. I leave it as an exercise for the reader to connect the dots.